


Keep Me Safe

by wunderlichkind



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wunderlichkind/pseuds/wunderlichkind
Summary: After finding out that his business partner Richard Brown is partaking in very illegal activities, Jamie Fraser is placed in witness protection. He spends his days waiting for the trial, going about a boring job in a diner and he hates it. Thank God for agent Claire Beauchamp keeping him sane.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a trope mash-up prompt: combine "bodyguard AU" with "the big damn kiss". I'm very sure I succeeded on writing the first with a twist, the second one's probably happening after curtain call.
> 
> This is un-betaed and English is not my first language. Thank you for reading. Comments are highly appreciated <3.

She’s cleaning the milkshake machine when Jamie walks into the diner that morning. The doorbell announces his presence to her and she looks up, smiling at him.  
„Good morning, sunshine. What’s up?“, she calls and he has to smile back despite himself.  
He answers while fixing his nametag to his blue employee polo. _Brodie._ He still hates not being able to use his own name.  
„Same, same, everyday.“  
Her answering look is sympathetic but she doesn’t comment on the situation. They are in public and it is important to keep the façade, play the game, act like it’s the role of their lives. It is a matter of life and death after all.  
He ties his apron behind his back and starts making coffee, counting the first drops through the filter as is his morning ritual.  
_One, two_ – twice she had saved him from Brown’s gang already - _three_ – three months since he first got placed into witness protection – _four, five, six_ – six gang members still on the run including Richard Brown himself – _seven, eight_ and then a steady trickle of coffee, as steady as the days going by.  
He has never felt so trapped before, like an animal in a cage. All Brodie does all day is get up, work in the diner, watch tv, go to bed. She’s the only upside to all of this; agent Claire Beauchamp, Scotland Yard. Head of his security detail and the investigation concerning Richard Brown and his band of criminals.  
The first time Jamie met Claire, he had just narrowly escaped Brown’s warehouse after discovering that who he thought was an ordinary trader and his business partner was actually part of a huge smuggling ring and very much abusing his trust.  
Even then, disheveled and scared but mostly really, really angry he had noticed her beauty. Now that he’s spent over three months with her, he’s added quick wits, talent for healing, compassion and one hell of a sharp tongue to his inventory of her countless assets. He’s pretty sure if it weren’t for her, he’d have willingly gone and gave himself over to Brown by now because he just wants to get back to his own life.

„Brodie!“, she calls from the backroom of the diner when the lunch crowd has cleared and the diner is empty. He makes sure to include her codename when he answers because he knows she hates it as much as he does his own.  
„Just a minute, Katy!“  
He finishes loading the dishwasher and means to turn around to join her when the front door swings open and lets in a costumer. Jamie can’t believe his eyes. He basically runs towards the backroom now, shutting the door right behind him but for a small crack.  
„Claire!“, he hisses, gesturing for her to join him at the door wildly. She’s by his side in a heartbeat, alarmed by his tone and his use of her real name.  
„Look! It’s Richard fucking Brown. The bastard just walked right through our front door.“  
She shoos him out of the way to get a look herself. He knows from the way she sets her shoulders as soon as she sees him that he’s right. It’s not just his ghosts haunting him, it’s really Richard Brown, right there in the serving room of their diner and she’s already in superhero mode, taking a step back, phone trapped between her shoulder and her ear and while she’s waiting for someone to pick up, she’s looking at him sternly.  
„Did he see you?“, she asks in a low but no-nonsense voice.  
„I dinna think so“, he says, „I was already half back here when he walked in.“  
„Good“, she answers, immediately switching to the conversation on her phone. She’s calling for back up and judging by her expression and tone she doesn’t particularly like what she’s hearing.  
„Okay“, she quietly briefs him after she’s hung up, „backup is gonna take at least 15 minutes to arrive here. I’m going out there to serve him, we don’t want him to leave under any circumstances. You stay in here no matter what, do you hear me?“  
It’s phrased as a question but her burning stare lets him know unmistakably that there is only one right answer. He nods, curtly, lips pressed together and lets her press past him through the door.  
He hates this. He hates feeling so helpless. He hates that she’s placing herself in danger for him.  
It’s not just for him though and he knows it, this is all about catching these assholes and that knowledge is the only thing keeping him from flipping his shit.

Brown’s not alone. They’re sitting at a table in the corner, both of them bulky guys, their appearance practically screaming shady at the world.  
„Can I get you anything?“, Claire asks sweetly, watching the both of them intently.  
„Coffee“, comes the grunted answer.  
„Right away. Anything else you need?“  
„Where are the toilets?“, Brown’s companion wants to know and Claire points him in the right direction.  
„Right through there“, she says and tuns to the coffee machine. Her mind is running in circles, worrying about Jamie and the backup arriving too late, wondering whether Brown is armed, questioning how to approach this best. She’s also a tiny bit excited because he’s finally in her reach after months of investigation turning up nothing but dead-ends. All of this might be over soon. There’s a surprising pang of regret at that thought and she takes a mental note to find out what that’s all about later.  
The second guy comes back from the bathroom and reaches the table just a few seconds before Claire who’s coming to serve the coffee. He bends down and in a very low voice hastily talks at Brown. Claire can’t understand any of it but she doesn’t need to because it only takes her an instant to realize. _Shit. The staff board in the hallway._  
Brown is getting up already and one look at her face tells him all he needs to know. His smile is sly and he’s slowly coming closer.  
„Well, missy, would you kindly tell me where I can find Jamie Fraser?“, he asks and she takes a step back, gripping the coffee tray harder.  
„Who?“ She tries to act nonchalant but she knows it’s a lost cause and inwardly curses her glass face.  
„Don’t act all innocent with me, Katy. I know you know him.“  
There are only a few steps between Claire and Brown now. His right hand is in his pocket and Claire is pretty sure she can see the outline of a knife in there too.  
„He... doesn’t work today“, she answers him, trying to keep her cool. Her own weapon is strapped to her back but her hands are still full with the coffee tray and _God, how long does the bloody backup take?!_  
Brown makes a fast move and suddenly he’s right up in her face and she can smell his bad breath.  
„DON’T LIE TO ME“, he yells at her and she flinches, the coffee cups tipping over and shattering on the floor.  
Now or never, she thinks, quickly raising the tray and aiming for Brown’s head but he sees it coming and manages to avoid the worst of the blow. Claire tries to run from him but he grabs her by the hair and tugs violently, making her fall to her knees. There’s no trace of the earlier dirty smile left on his face now, it’s all rage now.  
„TELL ME WHERE FRASER IS, WHORE!“, he screams at her and she has to close her eyes against his flying spit.  
„I’m here, Brown. Leave the lass alone.“  
Jamie’s voice is calm, only the strong Scottish lilt betraying his nerves to Claire. She sighs. Leave it to Jamie to make the situation worse with grand gestures.  
Brown is laughing, a bitter sound, one hand signalling his companion to stay back when he tries to charge forward at Jamie.  
„Oh you like the little missy then?“, he asks, provocatively tugging her hair.  
Jamie makes no sound but she sees his fists clenching at his sides and Brown sees it too. He drags her up then and deftly pushes her across the room towards Jamie who makes a quick step to catch her safely in his arms.  
„Say goodbye to your bitch, Fraser because you’re never gonna see her again!“, Brown jeers, openly threatening them with his knife now, the second guy laughing and applauding behind him.  
„Are ye okay?“, Jamie whispers to her and she has to suppress the urge to nervously burst out laughing. Only Jamie could focus on her wellbeing in a moment like this. She nods at him, „I’m fine“ and wiggles a little in his arms, making him loosen his grip on her.  
In one swift fluid motion she’s facing Brown again, gun drawn. It’s clear that this is the last thing Brown has expected. In fact, he’s so surprised, his knife falls to the floor and clatters on the yellow tile between coffe cup shards.  
„Raise your hands and keep them where I can see them. Richard Brown, you’re under arrest for illegal trade and attempted murder.“  
In that precise moment both back- and frontdoor open and let in a flood of police officers with raised weapons.  
Claire lets out a relieved breath. „I’ll let you handle this“, she says to an officer standing nearby, stashing away her weapon while Brown and his accomplice are being handcuffed. She turns to Jamie and takes his arm.  
„Come on, I’ll get you home.“

They sit in her car in front of his – no _Brodie’s_ – appartement in silence for a while, listening to a ridiculously cheesy 80s song on the radio, enjoying the calm.  
„This is finally gonna be over soon“, Claire looks at him with a small smile. „Are you excited to get back to your life?“  
„I canna wait“, he admits, eyes closed and leaning back against the headrest. And then, like an afterthought, his eyes opening and deep blue oceans landing on her: „But I’ll miss ye, lass.“  
„I won’t miss you, you reckless idiot“, she answers with a bravado she doesn’t really feel. „How am I supposed to protect you if you come running to my rescue just because some asshole grabs my hair?!“  
His answering laugh is low and rumbles over her skin with a shudder. _Get it together, Beauchamp!_  
He reaches over the gearshift, his large warm hand covering hers on her knee.  
„I’m hoping ye won’t need to protect me much longer, _mo nighean donn._ “  
There’s so much tenderness in his voice, she can’t help herself. She carefully intertwines their fingers, squeezing his hand, unable to look at him. He reaches for her chin with his other hand then, lifting it to face him, meet his intense gaze, see the glint in his eyes.  
„Claire Beauchamp. When this is all over, will ye go out with me?“  
She smiles and he wants to move the world just to have her smile at him like that again.  
„I’d like that, Jamie.“  
„Ye should get to locking those bastards up then“, Jamie grins at her and opens the car door but before he gets out he suddenly leans over and presses his lips to hers, soft and warm and oh so inviting, a tiny flick of his tongue against her lips. She opens her mouth to him but he’s already out the door.  
„See ye tomorrow, Katy“, he calls with a smirk and then he’s gone and she’s sitting there, lips tingling, stomach coiling with want and hope. Turns out, Jamie doesn’t need to move the world to make her smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, who'd have known - there's more coming. have fun!

She’s already running late for picking Jamie (no, Brodie) up from work when her phone rings.   
They’ve been having a really productive day so far. The guy they’d arrested with Brown had given up three more of his accomplices. Only two arrests missing before they could start the trial. Two arrests and a trial between here and the semblance of a normal life. Two arrests and a trial between here and her date with Jamie.   
But her spirits fall as soon as she sees the caller ID. The call’s coming from prison. She picks up the phone quickly.  
„Yes, Beauchamp?“  
It’s obvious to anyone watching her, that the news she’s receiving are not good news. She listens intently, face scrunched up in concentration. They’ve checked Brown’s cell today. And they’ve found a phone.  
 _Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT_. She hangs up without saying goodbye and runs out of her office towards the parking garage, already dialing again.  
„Pick up, pick up, pick up.“ But the phone in the diner rings and rings and there’s no answer. She can’t reach Tom either, who’s supposed to be on standby with Jamie and she violates every speed limit and runs a red light on her way to the diner because the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach is incredibly scary and she’s sure something bad has happened. Her brain is supplying her with images of Jamie captured or lying in a pool of his own blood and her foot presses down impossibly harder on the gas.

She enters the diner with her gun drawn and walks right into them – Jamie covered in blood, barely standing (but standing nonetheless and she’s so relieved), hands stretched out towards the mass of a man in front of him. She sees his eyes widen in response to her entrance and apparently his attacker sees it too because he half turns to her before she can make her presence known.  
She recognizes him in an instant. Lionel Brown, the brother. Rumour has it, he’s in charge of the more hands-on bits of Brown’s smuggling ring, of the dirty business, the kinds of things he’s been doing before she arrived. At first assessment she sees no weapon on him. On the contrary, he’s clearly a bit battered too and Claire thanks the powers that be for Jamie’s good shape (it’s not the first time she’s had that thought but the first time it isn’t purely for esthetical reasons).  
„Lionel Brown. Step away from him and raise your hands where I can see them. You’re under arrest.“  
„Little Princess saving your ass again, Fraser“, Brown sneers but he complies with her order and steps to the side, eyes trained on her gun.  
She doesn’t dare to leave him out of his sight but from the corner of her eye she notices Jamie moving slowly. For a moment she feels suspended in time, waiting to find out what he’s doing, her eyes fixed straight on Lionel Brown’s face, trying to keep her own a blank canvas.   
Then she feels Jamie next to her and she risks a quick glimpse.  
God, he looks terrible, one of his eyes already nearly swollen shut, bleeding from a cut on his forehead and a busted lip and that’s just what she takes inventory of in the few seconds she dares to look at him. That and the gun in his hands pointed at Lionel Brown.  
„Go handcuff him“, he tells her, his voice distant and weirdly cold. And she does.

They’re in the backroom of the diner, shielded away from the busy crowd of police officers. Jamie’s leaning against the wall, all the tension and distance falling away from him bit by bit now that he’s not facing Lionel Brown anymore. Claire is softly dabbing at his face with disinfectant, eliciting the occasional flinch from him. Other than that, he’s very quiet, his eyes shut most of the time. Claire on the other hand can’t seem to stop talking and she wonders briefly whether she’s experiencing some sort of shock.  
„Tom should have been here!“, she states for probably the tenth time and then adds more resolutely: „Why wasn’t he here? Jamie! Where’s Tom?“  
He opens his eyes and looks at her tiredly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  
„I sent him home. It’s his daughter’s ballet recital tonight and ye were running late.“  
She lets herself slide to the floor at that, hugging her knees and groaning. „Shit. I should have been here!“  
He reaches out for her and softly squeezes her knee. „It happens.“  
„But it shouldn’t! Who knows what could’ve happened to you! Just look at yourself...“, she trails off, actively forcing herself to keep from sobbing out loud because she’s not that cheesy and this is her job, she’s a professional, so why does this affect her so much?  
„I’d rather not“, he answers her drily and she has to smile at that. She skids to his side and carefully takes his face in her hand, assessing his injuries and her own work in taking care of them.  
„How are you feeling?“, she asks in a sympathetic voice.  
„I’m fine“, he says but winces when she touches the tender skin around the cut on his forehead.  
„What about nausea?“  
„A little“, he admits, his shallow breathing telling her the rest.   
„Okay, I think you might have a concussion. Open your eyes for me, okay?“  
She’s on her knees now, ready to get up and call for someone to drive them to the A & E but she needs him to stay awake and he hasn’t opened his eyes yet.  
„Jamie“, she softly pushes, her hand carefully running through his hair and smoothing it out of his face. His eyes are unfocused when he finally opens them but only for a second and then his hand automatically reaches out for her and looks straight at her, a look that she can’t describe but with the word wonder.   
„Ye’re here“, he says quietly and the sound of it goes straight to her heart for all it’s vulnerability and relief.  
„I’m here and I’m not leaving you“, she reassures him. „But you don’t get to leave me either, so you stay awake, James Fraser, you hear me?“

The clock on the light blue wall at the end of hallway ticks away while Claire waits for Jamie’s examination to be over. The A & E is unusually quiet this evening and the ticking of the clock is taking over Claire’s thoughts. It’s unnerving and she gets up to pace the corridor, willing her own thoughts to drown out all sound.  
The officer driving them here has briefed her on Lionel Brown’s initial questioning and the first finds of forensics.   
The gun Jamie pointed on him was Brown’s own, as she had already suspected. What really bothers her is the fact that they found two bullet holes in the diner, one in the ceiling, one in the counter and she’s haunted by images of Jamie narrowly dodging those bullets or worse, not dodging them at all.  
„Miss Beauchamp?“  
It takes her a moment to connect the words to the person standing on the far end of the hallway but when the horror scenarios in her head finally release their grip on her, she approaches him and nods.  
„Doctor Joe Abernathy“, he introduces himself and shakes her hand.   
„I’ve examined Mister Fraser just now and he has a light concussion as well as a few cuts and bruises. We’d like to keep him over night for observation but it’s nothing too major.“  
Claire nods at him again, unable to say anything past the gigantic lump of relief caught in her throat.   
„You may go in to see him now. I’ll be back later to check on him again.“, Doctor Abernathy tells her in a friendly voice and she gets her wits together enough to at least thank him before he rushes away to his next patient. 

Jamie is a little more coherent and concious, now that he’s well tended to and on medication but there are deep circles under his eyes and he speaks slowly with a very quiet voice.  
„They called me Fraser“, is the first thing he states and his delight is obvious even through the exhaustion.  
„Yeah. There’s only one more minor gang member on the loose now and I don’t plan on leaving your side until you get discharged so we figured it’s easier to register you under your real name“, she explains and takes a seat in the chair next to his bed.  
„How are you feeling?“  
He yawns in answer and she rests a hand on his shoulder – _jeez, this need to touch him is getting excessive_ – as a silent reminder that she’s here, that he can let go.  
„Get some rest, okay?“, she tells him and he closes his eyes in agreement, his large hand reaching out to cover hers as if to keep her there, to make sure she doesn’t leave him.   
„And when you’re feeling better we’re gonna discuss again what a reckless, stupid idiot you are“, she adds under her breath and she feels his shoulder vibrate with a barely audible chuckle in answer.


	3. Chapter 3

The last day at court stretches the boundaries of time as Jamie knows it. He sits in his place, outwardly calm except for the tell-tale twitching of his index and middle fingers against his leg all during final speeches without hearing what they’re saying.  
His mind is occupied with hoping. Hoping for his old life back. Hoping for his date plans to work out. Hoping for a chance with Claire.  
It’s an exhilarating feeling when the verdict comes in and Brown and his gang are put away for a long, long while. It’s all over in one sentence of the judge, the hiding, the pretending, the helplessness. He feels like he’s reborn.   
One of his hopes fulfilled, two to go.   
Claire comes to him, through the stream of people leaving the courtroom and hugs him, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders, her pretty curls tickling his cheek, a warm and solid presence against him. He could get used to this.  
„Congratulations Mister Fraser!“, she smiles. „You’re finally free of me.“  
„Actually“, he grins back, reluctantly letting her take a step away, „what are yer plans for the rest of the day?“

He takes her to his favourite spot – the bench on the hill overlooking the city. They make a small stop at a deli on the way, pick up the picknick-basket he’s ordered (a last memento of Brodie) and a bottle of wine.   
The weather is unusually nice for September in England and to them it feels like summer anyways; carefree, liberating, dreamy, slow.   
Now that they can drop all the pretense and careful censorship their conversation flows freely. It’s like they’ve known eachother forever, talking suddenly so easy even for him who rarely shares what’s truly going on inside that stubborn head of his. But there’s something in her bringing it all out as if it had been waiting right behind his lips. 

Jamie tells her about his sister’s family still living in the Scottish highlands, about how he comes to this bench whenever he feels homesick for the rolling hills, about his seasickness.  
Claire finds herself opening up to him about the loss of her parents, comforted by his understanding and the warm and heavy presence of his arm around her shoulder.   
They laugh about stories from his childhood and her poor attempt at mimicking his accent. They sit in silence and watch the sunset.  
He thinks it’s probably safe to count his date plans as a success.

He knows when she gets cold because she’s shivering against him and even though he enjoys her snuggling up to him very much, he decides to do the chivalrous thing and take them somewhere warmer.   
They end up in a booth at the diner, _their diner_ , sharing a milkshake, watched closely by two of their former co-workers.   
She’s all smiles and he’s never seen her so uninhibited. Claire Beauchamp the MPS agent is fierce and stern, badass and breathtakingly in charge. Claire Beauchamp on a date is a very different story and he loves that she’s showing him sides of her that were hinted at at most before. Her cheeks are flushed from excitement and she’s talking animately, her pretty laugh a sound he wants to commit to memory and replay on rainy days.  
She’s telling him a story about an arrest she made (something featuring a lot of profanities) but he has a hard time focusing, eyes caught on her finger twirling a stray lock of hair, her soft lips wrapping around the straw, her cheeks hollowing out when she sucks, her tongue dipping out to lick her lips.  
 _She’s so verra beautiful_ , he thinks, unaware that he’s staring at her until she stops talking, her lips stretching into a knowing smile.  
„Jamie. What are you looking at?“  
He feels the tips of his ears turn red at her remark and decides to take a chance.  
„Will ye let me take ye home, Claire?“  
It’s her turn to blush at his words but instead of answering she scoots closer to him, taking his large hand into her small one, softly pushing him towards the edge of the booth. 

She doesn’t let go of his hand until they arrive at his car, both of them nervously quiet. He moves to open the car door for her but she stops him by tugging at his hand. Some of her Scotland Yard fierceness comes through when she catches his gaze and holds it, her voice low but certain.  
„James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. Will you man the fuck up and kiss me already?“   
And he does, obviously, because he’s wanted to the entire evening and for days and weeks and months before that if he’s being honest with himself.   
She’s leaning against the side of his car and he’s pressed up against her, her body molding against his like they were made for eachother, her lips hot and pliant on his own, her skin soft under his travelling hands.  
When they part for air, the words ramble out of his mouth like a confession.  
„ _A Diah_ , I’ve wanted to do that ever since ye’ve first cursed me out when I walked into the police station that first day. You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, _Sassenach_ and the roundest arse“, he trails off, his hands finding purchase on the bodypart in question, pressing her impossibly closer to him.  
She stands on her tiptoes to meet his lips again, generating delicious friction between them that has him groan quietly into her mouth, the small sound losing itself in the nearly empty parking lot and it spurs her on, makes her deepen the kiss, feel the slide of her tongue against his.  
The mass of his body against hers betrays just how affected he is, just as affected as her and it is _thrilling_ – this strikingly handsome, reckless, huge picture of a Scot wanting her, kissing her breathless in a diner parking lot of all places, the cool night air a starch contrast to the heat of their joined skin. It’s a big damn kiss, leaving her wanting even more, pulsing with need and she sees the feeling mirrored in the deep blue pools of his eyes when he finally opens the car door for her. 

Yes, she’ll let him take her home.


End file.
